


Underneath The Mistletoe

by nothingwithoutyouxo



Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti)
Genre: Christmas, F/M, Fluff and Humor, M/M, Not Canon Compliant, Post-IT (2017)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-24
Updated: 2019-12-24
Packaged: 2021-02-18 16:18:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,130
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21930280
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nothingwithoutyouxo/pseuds/nothingwithoutyouxo
Summary: Beverly had come up with a plan: she and Mike were going to deck the clubhouse out with mistletoe. Hopefully it meant their friends would start getting their shit together. At the very least, the decorations would brighten the place up more than usual.
Relationships: Ben Hanscom/Beverly Marsh, Bill Denbrough & Mike Hanlon & Ben Hanscom & Eddie Kaspbrak & Beverly Marsh & Richie Tozier, Bill Denbrough/Stanley Uris, Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier
Kudos: 119





	Underneath The Mistletoe

**Author's Note:**

> Hi, again! Happy Holiday Season if you celebrate :)  
> I've only seen these movies once each so I'm not an expert by any means, but I write a holiday fic every year and this year seemed to be for The Losers Club. This is a Christmas present for my friend Hannah who loves these kids more than anyone (a proven fact). I hope you all like it!

The worst part of winter was not being able to ride their bikes anywhere. The roads were too slippery with ice, and the snow was thick enough on the best of days that they’d be pushing their bikes along next to them regardless. It was something that Beverly was complaining about as she trudged her way through the snow with Mike next to her. The two of them were on their way to the clubhouse to insight a plan that Beverly had come up with no less than a week earlier. It was something that had just popped into her head, and as soon as Mike found out about it, they’d made a deal.

The two of them were going to deck the clubhouse out with mistletoe. Hopefully it would mean their friends starting to get their shit together. At the very least, the decorations would brighten the place up more than usual.

“Did you get them?” Beverly asked, adjusting the box of decorations she was carrying.

Mike fished into the pocket of his jacket, carefully pulling out three sprigs of mistletoe. “Would I let you down?” he teased.

She laughed, and he pocketed them again. “You better not.”

Beverly realised that she hadn’t known what mistletoe looked like until now, at least not really. She’d never seen it in person. Maybe that was a good thing. Maybe the others hadn’t either.

“This was a good idea,” he muttered, rubbing his hands together to try and keep them warm.

Beverly nodded. “It’s the best idea."

*** 

Beverly might have gotten carried away with the decorations, but at the moment she didn’t care. Mike helped her line the room with as much tinsel as they could, red and green shining in the filtered sunlight. She’d bought the world’s smallest tree. It was plasticy and hadn’t cost much but she didn’t have a tree in her own house, she wanted one here. They decorated it with blue and gold baubles that she may or may not have stolen. It wasn’t important. When Mike pulled the first sprig of mistletoe out they didn’t need to think twice about where to put it.

“Hammock,” they said at the same time, and then couldn’t help but laugh. It was the perfect spot to catch Richie and Eddie off guard. The two of them always ended up there, constantly fighting over it until they were both crowded into the small space together.

Mike tied a piece of red ribbon carefully around it so they he could hang it from the wood above the hammock. “Do you think they’ll see it?” he asked, as he straightened the sprig with careful fingers.

Beverly shrugged. “I’ll make them see it.”

He smiled at her, tying a ribbon around the second sprig, this one a navy blue.

Their second task was a little more difficult. Beverly still hadn’t decided if meddling with Bill and Stan was the right thing to do. She hadn’t quite settled on it. While it was obvious that the two of them liked each other, they were far more awkward with it than Richie and Eddie were. They were fleeting glances and hidden smiles, which was very different to the constant jabs and challenges of the other two. She glanced around the room, thinking this one over.

“You ok?”

She looked up at Mike, finding herself in need of reassurance. “There’s no way this could go wrong, right?” she asked him, a hesitance in her voice that she wasn’t used to.

He shrugged. “What’s the worst they could do?”

It was sort of the perfect answer. “Wouldn’t put it passed Stan to kill me with his own two hands,” she teased.

“Fair,” he laughed.

She paused, biting down on her lip. “What if they’re … mad?” She expected as much from Richie and Eddie, however fleeting it would be, but Bill and Stan … she really didn’t want to ruin this for them.

Mike’s brows drew together, thinking carefully about his answer. “What’s happiness worth?” he asked after a moment. “It’s not like it can leave the clubhouse anyway.”

Maybe that was the worst part, the saddest part. Beverly nodded, taking the mistletoe that Mike offered her and making her way to the alcove that Bill and Stan usually ended up sitting in, keeping just the right amount of space between them that she could tell it was calculated, even subconsciously. She tied the sprig to a wooden beam just as Mike had done. Maybe it didn’t matter if they noticed it or not.

“Who’s the third one for?”

Beverly shrugged. “Not sure yet.”

He raised an eyebrow.

She shoved her hands into her pockets, watching as Mike tied a yellow ribbon around the last sprig. “Probably me,” she clarified.

A smirk tugged at his lips. “Ben?”

Beverly scuffed the toe of her shoe against the wooden floor, pointedly not looking at him. “Maybe.”

Mike held the sprig out to her. “So, he’s the poet then?” he asked.

She shoved at his shoulder, making him laugh. “Shut up.”

***

“Richie, you’re taking up all the space again!”

“No, I’m not!”

“Fucking _move_.”

“ _Y_ _ou_ move!”

Richie and Eddie had been squabbling for a while. Beverly sighed to herself, sharing smirks with her other friends in the room. As annoying at the two of them could be when they were like this, she couldn’t help but hope there wasn’t a time where this _wasn’t_ their normal. She’d listen to them fight forever if it meant they would all still have days like this.

After a few minutes, the two boys seemed to finally settle – well as much as they could – in the hammock in what had to be one of the most uncomfortable positions in the world but seemed fairly normal for them. They were lying side by side this time, one of Richie’s legs twisted between Eddie’s, effectively locking the two of them in place. Beverly met Mike’s eyes across the room, and in doing so had to fight off a laugh.

“Is the lover’s quarrel over yet?” Stan asked. He was midway through hanging up Hanukkah banners to add to their decorations in the room. None of them had been surprised when he’d actually brought a Menorah with him. (“If you get a tree then I get to have this.”)

The comment immediately started another fight, insults being thrown Stan’s way that he barely seemed to notice.

Beverly noticed Bill close his eyes and take a deep breath, as if he was fighting off his older sibling instinct to jump in and stabilize the situation.

“I hate you!” Richie called, and it was one of his weaker insults.

Stan shrugged, satisfied with the banners for now. “Prove it,” he shot back before quickly taking up his usual spot next to Bill.

“ _Ouch_ , Richie stop moving,” Eddie shoved at him.

While Richie and Eddie calmed down again, Ben started handing out the eggnog his mum helped him make. “She said it’s kosher and I don’t know what that means but I think you can have it?” he said to Stan, who smiled at him and took the cup that was being handed to him.

“Thanks.”

He sat down again. Bill asked Stan about how his family’s Hanukkah traditions were going. Everything seemed to fall back into its usual rhythm until –

“What the fuck is that?” Richie asked, a hand pointing towards the ceiling.

“What’s what?” Eddie replied, looking at Richie’s hand instead of what he was trying to show him.

Beverly caught Mike’s eye, and smirked. She waited to see if the two of them would figure it out for themselves.

“Looks like a plant,” Richie muttered, pushing at his glasses as if that would help him get a closer look. “Next to the tinsel.”

Eddie finally glanced up and his brow furrowed. “Poison Ivy?”

Stan glanced up at them as if they’d called his name, following the line of Richie’s finger until he spotted the mistletoe. “No,” he said. “Definitely not.”

Beverly wondered if that meant he recognised it, and just as the thought crossed her mind, Stan’s eyes found hers across the room. The glint in them was the only answer she needed. He raised an eyebrow and she shrugged, finally cracking and falling into laughter.

Richie’s eyes snapped to her far too quickly, and as she looked back, she watched the realisation dawn on him. He’d always been too smart for his own good. Richie went very quiet and turned to Eddie, who’d started describing the plant to Stan as if that would help them figure out what it was.

“It’s not growing on the wood. I think it’s tied there,” he said.

“Eds,” Richie muttered, his tone far softer than he usually allowed.

Eddie didn’t listen to him. “If we had plants growing, they would be everywhere. Like moss.”

Richie tried again, a little louder this time. “Eddie.”

“What?”

He swallowed, suddenly nervous. “It’s … mistletoe.”

As Eddie registered what that meant, he turned from confused to horrified in a matter of seconds. Then he did what he always did when he was panicked: he just started talking, words spilling out of him far too quickly for the rest of them to catch them all.

“Absolutely fucking _not_ \- no we’re really not - don’t you _dare_ even _think_ about - Bev I _swear_ if you did this I’ll - ” 

He tried to move, as if putting some space between him and Richie would help him process what was happening, but he was still locked in place in the hammock. Eddie almost managed to knock the two of them out of it as he squirmed. 

“Richie, move your fucking leg and get off me I need to - I need to -” 

“Does it matter, Eddie?” 

There was a shake in Richie’s voice that had never been there before, too much meaning tangled up in just those four words. Too much that was usually left unsaid. He was looking at Eddie with a mixture of fear and twisted hope. 

“Of course it matters. How could you - how could you say that?” Eddie muttered, his voice quieter now, but far more strained, the question weighing just as much. His eyes only met Richie’s for a second, before he stared off passed his shoulder instead. 

Beverly’s eyes found Mike’s across the room and something passed between them. _Holy shit, is this a breakthrough?_

Richie didn’t say anything, and the two of them looked at each other for a long, agnognising moment. Then he reached up and cupped Eddie’s cheek ever so gently and leaned in. Eddie grabbed onto Richie’s arm as if to hold him there, kissing him back like he might not get another chance to. 

The rest of them quickly looked away, down at the floor or their laps to give them a moment. Only looking up again when they heard Richie clear his throat, the two of them breaking apart.

Eddie’s gaze flitted around the room, a distinct wave of fear in them at the fact they had all just seen that. Beverly wondered how she could tell him that they’d keep his secret no matter what.

Richie had frozen up entirely, Eddie could feel the back of his hand pressing against Richie’s, but he’d gone quiet. He needed to draw attention to something that wasn’t them. His eyes locked onto something else in the room, another sprig tied to the wooden beams of the clubhouse with a blue ribbon. Eddie wondered how he’d missed that before. How many were there?

“Stan, you’ve got one too,” he said, pointing at it with one hand, and finding the courage to grab onto Richie’s with the other since it didn’t seem like he was going to - if the kiss was Richie’s act of bravery maybe this was his. 

Stan glanced up at the ceiling, taking in the plant. Yeah, that was definitely mistletoe. He’d wonder how they got it, but Mike seemed far too smug, which meant he’d had something to do with it. Suddenly, he was regretting the eggnog, his stomach was starting to twist uncomfortably. He hoped he wasn’t going to be sick. Stan looked over at Bill, whose eyes were wide, and he was halfway through stuttering something in Beverly’s direction. It was probably the first time in his life that Stan couldn’t really hear him. His eyes met Beverly’s and she smirked at him. So her and Mike had done this together then. Of course they had.

“Your turn,” she teased, tone too chipper for his liking.

Stan narrowed his eyes at her. “I’m Jewish, you hold no power over me.”

Out of the corner of his eye, Stan saw Bill’s shoulders slump, his voice cut off. Something pulled at Stan and he realised that Eddie was right: it mattered. More than he was willing to admit. Beverly raised an eyebrow at him across the room as if she could hear his train of thought, and that was only mildly terrifying.

It was then that he realised just how _quiet_ it was in the clubhouse, all his friends were suspended in this moment, waiting. Stan tried to catch Richie’s eye, but he was still staring down Eddie’s hand in his, and he deserved that much. He pulled at the sleeves of his jacket absently, trying to fight off the sudden nerves. Stan wanted to take a deep breath, but the room felt too still for that. Bill was staring pointedly at the ground.

“Maybe just this once,” he said, and wondered if they’d even get another chance for this at all. He wasn’t sure whether to be grateful to Beverly for that or not. 

Bill’s eyes met his, looking entirely shocked, with a tiny spark underneath. A small ‘ _oh_ ’ and yes nothing had ever mattered more than that. Stan wasn’t sure what to do but he moved on instinct, grabbing the front of Bill’s shirt and tugging him forward, closing the few inches between them and pressing their lips together. A hand skimmed his hip and then fell away again just as quickly. As he pulled away, Stan watched Bill’s eyes flutter open again, a nervous smile lighting up his face.

_Oh shit, they were gonna have to talk about this at some point, weren’t they?_ Stan didn’t have the headspace for that yet. He let go of Bill’s shirt, his hand falling back into his lap and looked away.

“Happy now?” he aimed the question at Beverly, who was smirking over at them. 

“Very,” she replied. 

“That was pretty fucking gay, Stan.” 

Well, Richie was back to normal. Stan kind of wished he had something to throw at him. Fortunately, Ben seemed to handle that, throwing a cushion in his direction with just enough force. 

“Hey!”

Stan chose to stay out of this one, staring at the ground instead and ignoring the fight that was starting to break out. He only looked up again when he felt a hand against his knee. 

“You didn’t - have to do that,” Bill said, in a tone that was just as happy as it was cautious, something that was just for the two of them. 

He wasn’t often one for taking risks, but this one seemed worth it. “I wanted to.”

Bill’s eyes lit up. “Me - too.”

***

Beverly’s hand clenched around the final sprig of mistletoe in her jacket pocket. She was worried that if she held onto it for too long it would shrivel up, maybe from the heat of her palm. The rest of the losers had started to shift around the room. Richie and Eddie had moved out of the hammock. Richie was currently debating the quality of different Hanukkah songs with Stan, while Eddie and Bill were on the other side of the room, talking in quiet voices and constantly throwing glances at the other two. 

Ben had pulled out a book at some point, something with a Derry library sticker on the spine. It was thick and looked heavy, but he seemed content as he poured over it. Beverly looked up when she felt someone nudge her in the side gently. 

“Go now,” Mike smiled at her. 

She hesitated, skimming the plant in her pocket with her hand again. “Yeah?”

He nodded. “Everyone else has.”

“You haven’t.” She hadn’t meant to say it. It wasn’t like she was trying to accuse him of anything.

Mike laughed, shrugging one shoulder. “And?”

Beverly looked up as she heard movement in the room. Eddie was creeping back over to Richie’s side, trying to be subtle about it. Bill was moving towards them now. He sat on the floor next to Mike and smiled at her.

“You’re - planning something,” he said. “I know that look.”

The way Bill smiled at her always had a way of making her feel confident, like an energy boost. “Maybe.”

He tilted his head in Ben’s direction. “You should - go.”

Beverly wasn’t sure what to do with the fact that her friends knew her so well. If it was anyone else, she’d be horrified. Mike nudged her again and she rolled her eyes at them, trying to seem dramatic, which earned her two reassuring smiles that she needed. Then she was getting up and making her way over to Ben. He looked up at her as she sat next to him, already smiling.

“What are you reading?” she asked. 

He shrugged, closing the book to reveal the cover, black and white like an old photograph.

“Looks special,” she commented. 

“I think it’s cool,” he replied, almost sounding defensive.

Beverly nodded. “It _is_ cool.”

Ben smiled at her, and it must have given her the courage she needed.

She pulled the mistletoe out of her pocket, reaching up and holding it above Ben’s head. He looked up at it, confused, and she took the opportunity to press a quick kiss to his cheek. Ben started going red immediately, looking over at her as he registered the gesture. 

“Hey!” Richie called. “That’s cheating. You have to kiss for real!”

Beverly could feel the eyes of them all on her. She glanced over at Mike who gave her a very subtle thumbs up and then looked back at Ben, whose cheeks were only getting redder with the extra attention. She shrugged. “Ok.”

“Ok?” he muttered. 

She smiled and then leaned in. The kiss didn’t last long, it was more of a peck but as she pulled away Ben was looking at her like he never wanted to look at anything else. Beverly felt inexplicably happy. Her hand fell back down, and she slid the mistletoe back into her pocket, not that it mattered now. 

“January embers,” she said, and felt a little silly for it.

That faded when Ben laughed, a hand moving to rest over hers. “You read it?”.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm over at [stranger-awakening](http://www.stranger-awakening.tumblr.com) on Tumblr if anyone wants to chat!


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